Doctor's Orders
by Jalaperilo
Summary: Never miss a doctors appointment, especially if your doctor is Ratchet. Humour.


AN: This is just a bit of fun I had to write. I can't remember how I came up with this idea, as I wrote a barebones version ages ago and recently came back to it. The last line I wanted to write would have only been mildly funny to anyone from Britain, and a lot of my readers are American, so I went with another.

Read and review and, as always, chapter commentary at my livejournal - jalaperilo(dot)livejournal(dot)com

O o O o O o O

Doctor's Orders

The Autobot Command Deck, formally known as the bridge of the Ark, was enjoying a nice peaceful early oncycle. Jazz had always enjoyed cycles like this. Patrols were on schedule, communications were quiet and the afternoon outside was beautiful. Jazz was stood at comms with Blaster, pretending to be discussing communication reports but actually debating the billboard charts. He had earned one disapproving glance from Prowl at first, but no more. The tactician's discussion with Optimus and Ironhide on the tactical applications of the second wave of Autobots to join their crew from Cybertron had meandered to a conversation about the target range and their preferred practice runs. From the fragment of conversation Jazz had heard, Ironhide liked anything that he could shoot mercilessly, not that any of them couldn't have guessed that. Just another lazy day on the command deck.

Jazz glanced to the command centre doors as they opened to reveal their CMO. The medic's posture and the determined look on his faceplates made Jazz do a double take. He completely tuned Blaster out as Ratchet's optics narrowed, facial expression setting hard and began marching with quick, clipped steps onto the deck. Jazz mused that it was always much scarier when Ratchet had that look on his faceplates than when he was outright mad and scowling. You just didn't know which way his mood was going to go.

One thing was certain though. One of them was in deep slag. Jazz quickly scanned his memory banks to see if he had done anything to set the doctor off, but he couldn't come up anything he had done recently, or be caught for, crafty saboteur that he was.

Then again, after half a lifetime with the twins, he did seem to have developed a crafty 'illegal activity detection' radar.

Prowl noticed the stillness of his mate and turned to investigate before he himself knitted his optic ridges in a small frown as Ratchet approached the three other mechs who stood in front of the main Teletraan terminal. He briefly caught optics with his bondmate, echoing the hope that it wasn't him that was the focus of the CMO's ire. Jazz was glad that he was off to the side and well out of the way.

"This is gonna get ugly, ain't it," Blaster muttered, finally realising that his opinion about glam rock wasn't being listened to. Jazz glanced down at Blaster and smirked, who smiled deviously in return.

Optimus, who had had his back to the door, turned to see what both Prowl and Ironhide were now staring at. He nodded a greeting when he saw Ratchet, who had come to a stop in front of the leader, placed his hands on his hips and began without preamble.

"Prime. Your presence is required immediately in medbay, concerning the maintenance check that you still haven't had." Jazz smirked as the activity in the room stilled as the medic addressed the Autobot leader.

The medic had proven time and again that just because the mech in front of him was Prime, that didn't save him from a dressing down, but it was a rare occurrence saved mainly for when the truck had taken too much damage in battle, or was overworking. A fact that Jazz had once called the medic up on as a touch hypocritical, the amount of times he had caught Ratchet recharging in his office. He'd received a scanner to the shoulder and a not so polite invitation to stop talking and leave immediately.

"I'm sorry Ratchet but could it wait? We have a lot to go through today. We can do it in the next few cycles though," Optimus replied, shaking his head and gesturing around the deck. Ratchet's optics narrowed.

Jazz inhaled sharply. Oh no.

Some situations did normally go away when ignored or were passed off. Sadly, that didn't work with Ratchet. He was impossible to ignore, especially when throwing one of his vile temper tantrums and the medic seemed to take it personally when he, or specifically one of his requests, was ignored. The spy had to hand it to the doctor; his force of will wasn't something to be reckoned with easily. He was pretty glad the doc was on their side.

"I have given you two entire orns to find the time in your schedule to attend your check. It is now three cycles past the end of that time period. Everybody else has found time for me, even Cosmos, who is never even in the solar system. This is not a request," Ratchet's voice was deceptively calm. Prowl turned slightly to look over to Jazz, who was grinning despite himself. He felt his bonded's own amusement at the situation, but he managed to keep his faceplates neutral. What a poker face, Jazz thought wryly.

"I understand old friend, but I simply do not have the free time at the moment," Optimus said. Jazz's faceplates set into a sly calculating look. Prime could easily make time, especially on a slow day like today. The checks took less than half a joor to complete and all you had to do was let Ratchet, or one of the others, prod you a bit. Suddenly something clicked in Jazz's processor. It wasn't that Optimus couldn't find the time to go and submit to the doc's examination, but that he simply didn't want to and was making excuses not to go. Optimus Prime, their fearless leader, the bearer of the matrix was afraid of the medcentre. That explained a lot of the behaviour Prime often displayed when forced to visit medical.

Jazz almost laughed out loud, but stopped as Ratchet folded his arms under his bulky chest and squared his shoulders, furious determination etched onto his faceplates.

"Then I'm afraid, _old friend_, you leave me no choice," Ratchet declared loudly, optics still burning into Prime's faceplates.

"What-," was all Prowl managed to say before Ratchet cut him off.

"Teletraan. CMC protocol five, authorisation Ratchet four, five, seven, three, five," Jazz saw Prime tense. Blaster gasped beside him as the spy felt a vast amount of amusement from Prowl leak over their bond. Ironhide was literally bouncing on his pedes. Jazz couldn't help the silly grin that graced his lips. The entire command staff had suddenly become as giddy as sparklings.

"Now, Ratchet, there's no need-," this time Optimus was cut off.

"Autobot designation," Teletraan's confident tone called over the command deck. Ratchet's lips twitched minimally.

"Autobot Optimus Prime."

"This is gonna be good," Ironhide said, hands on his hips.

"Duration." Ratchet smirked.

"Wait!" Optimus said, holding out a hand.

"One cycle."

Suddenly, the command deck erupted as Ironhide, Blaster and Jazz all began laughing uproariously, Prowl's chuckle was muted in comparison. Prime's incredulous and uncharacteristic shout of 'what?' was drowned out by Teletraan confirming that access to it's systems and database was now disabled for the Autobot designated Optimus Prime for one cycle.

Ratchet, still smirking, was the only one not making any sound, still staring into Optimus' optics. The larger mech was frozen, arm still raised.

"I believe that your schedule just cleared up," Ratchet finally said, tilting his head back slightly and raising an optic ridge. Optimus lowered his arm and slumped his shoulders.

"I suppose it has," Optimus said wryly. He turned to Prowl who had managed to school his features back into impassiveness, but the glint of amusement in his optics ruined the overall effect. "You have command."

"Yes Prime," he said with a nod.

"I always said the doc fought dirty," Ironhide said, chuckling as he slapped Prime on the back.

"Shall we?" Ratchet asked, gesturing to the door. Prime remained where he was, probably wondering if there was still anyway out of this.

"Don't force me to order you off of the command deck sir," Prowl said, nodding seriously, earning another round of laughter from Jazz. When he wanted to, Prowl could be wickedly cruel. The withering look he received from his CO didn't faze him in the slightest.

Jazz watched with great amusement as Optimus turned back to the ambulance and, with a sigh of resignation stepped forward and followed the medic to what he more than likely considered personal doom.

"It's for the best Prime, we can't have our leader being road illegal now, can we?"


End file.
